Every Rose Has Its Thorn
by NotYourAveragePenAndPaper
Summary: Or my thought on how Greg learned about Rose healing.


The twang of the strings resonated in the cavern as Greg plucked to the correct pitch. Sitting cross legged on the floor, he spared a glance and a smile to Rose, who sat close by. The spaciousness of the cave was able to drown out the rain outside. Greg sighed as he plucked another string. "Finished," he declared. Rose giggled. "It's amazing how you can fix it without any tools," she said, eyeing the guitar. Greg scratched his head. "I've been doing it for years now. See?" He held out his hand in front of her face. She grasped it and gave him a confused look. "What am I supposed to see?" He blushed in embarrassment. "Ah, I have callouses on my fingers from the guitar strings. The strings are made of metal so after time you build up these so you can play for longer without it hurting your fingers." Rose gently ran a finger over some of the bumps and Greg shivered. "They kind of remind me of Pearl. She has the same ones for sword fighting." Greg scowled. Jeez, Pearl. What a mood killer. He took back his hand and played a few chords. "That's pretty," Rose said, adjusting her skirt as she scooted closer. "You don't know this song?" She laughed. "There's still a lot about your world I don't know." Greg smiled. "Well, this is a popular song right now. Want me to play it for you?" "Only if you sing," she replied. Greg blushed, adjusting his guitar and facing her more fully. Taking a deep breath, he began again, strumming the notes as he sang.

i  
"We both lie silently still in the dead of the night  
Although we both lie close together we feel miles apart inside  
Was it something I said or something I did?  
Did my words not come out right?  
Though I tried not to hurt you  
Though I tried  
But I guess that's why they say,"

Greg looked at Rose, but her eyes were down; her fingers playing with the hems of her dress. Confused, but not disheartened, he played on.

i"Every rose has its thorn  
Just like every night has its dawn  
Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song  
Every rose has its thorn," /i

He looked up again this time to find tears gently streaming down the large woman's pale face. In his shock, Greg fumbled on the strings. "Ow!" He looked down at his hand to find one of his callouses had ripped and he was bleeding. He quickly stuck his finger in his mouth. "Rose! Are you ok?" He mumbled around the appendage. Rose seemed to have snapped out of the sadness, but the tears remained in her eyes. "I-it was just kind of sad. The song…" she muttered. "But are you ok? Why is your finger in your mouth?" "Oh, I'm bleeding a little is all," Greg replied. Rose looked startled. "Well, then give me your hand, silly." Greg looked at her confused, but complied. She gently cupped his hand, inspecting the guilty finger. "I just need a band-aid-" Greg began before she shushed him. She held his hand to her face and slowly closed her eyes, allowing the remaining tears to fall. As the tears hit his injured finger, Greg felt a warmth, not only on his hand but filling his body and through his chest; a feeling akin to a warm embrace. She let go of his hand, smiling and looking at him expectantly. He blinked at her for a moment before looking at his hand. The small wound was fixed; the callous back in place as if it hadn't torn a moment ago. Greg continued to stare. "You… have healing powers." It was a statement, not a question. "Yeah?" She replied, still smiling but in a joking manner now. "I told you that." Greg's head snapped up to look at her. "No! You didn't!" "Huh," she tutted. "Could have sworn I did." Greg continued to gape at her for a full minute before sighing and running his now-fixed hand through his hair. "There's so much for me still to find out, isn't there?" Rose took a deep breath. "There is a lot that I don't want you to know though." Greg gave a short laugh. "We all have our secrets, I guess." "Some worse than others," she replied. "Skeletons in the closet?" he asked. She looked bewildered; "What?!" "No! No! It's a saying! Its- Ugh, never mind." He sat back and took a deep breath. Rose looked at him, thoughts and memories racing around in her head. She took his hand again, leaning down to put her head on his shoulder. "What's the song called?" She asked, looking at him with her large eyes. She looked so innocent like this, Greg mused, all the while trying to remember that she had led a war and she was over 5,000 years old. He smiled and shook his head, jangling around the thoughts. "The song is kind of about what I still don't know about you." He said as he leaned in to kiss her. "You're sweet to me but I know, i Every Rose has it's Thorn./i"


End file.
